


but I see the sunrise

by cold_nights_summer_days



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Romantic Fluff, Watford (Simon Snow), Watford Seventh Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28588329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cold_nights_summer_days/pseuds/cold_nights_summer_days
Summary: There are several reasons that Simon doesn’t want to sleep tonight, and none of them are pleasant. Though that doesn’t seem to be too different than normal; things are never exactly pleasant for Simon. His days are filled with classes he struggles in, taunts from Baz, and worrying about the Humdrum. His nights are filled with nightmares about finding out this was never real, or the Humdrum killing him or Penny or Agatha, or some equally terrible thing.or:Sometimes all it takes to change things is a conversation.(title from Oceans Away by A R I Z O N A
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 6
Kudos: 89





	but I see the sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> hi! I'm excited to be posting again after not feeling like writing for so long! I hope you guys enjoy!

There are several reasons that Simon doesn’t want to sleep tonight, and none of them are pleasant. Though that doesn’t seem to be too different than normal; things are never exactly pleasant for Simon. His days are filled with classes he struggles in, taunts from Baz, and worrying about the Humdrum. His nights are filled with nightmares about finding out this was never real, or the Humdrum killing him or Penny or Agatha, or some equally terrible thing.

Long story short, things are difficult for him. Tonight especially, though, because it’s the last night of seventh year. Tonight is the last time that Simon will leave Watford with the promise of returning to it.

(He briefly thought that the last time he’d be leaving Watford was when the Humdrum took him and Penny. He’d tried not to think about it since.)

He couldn’t really avoid it now, though. It was difficult to not think about what life after Watford would be like when he was this close to it. (Would be closer if he hadn’t decided to come back for eighth year, but there was never a world where Simon wouldn’t stay as long as he could.)

Where am I supposed to go next year? What am I supposed to do after I graduate here? What if I never get there?

This last thought isn’t as surprising as Simon might like to be. He often considered the notion that he would never make it long enough to worry about what happens next, what with having to the Humdrum and the Old Families and the surely upcoming fight between him and Baz.

(The other thing that he often considers is that he doesn’t want to fight Baz. Well, they fight all the time. He doesn’t want to _kill_ him, though. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for him to lose that battle, after all. He wouldn’t have to worry so much about After anymore.)

Simon shakes the thought away. More than wanting to not think about what happens After, he doesn’t want to think about Baz. It had only been a few days ago that he’d caught him and Agatha in the Wavering Wood, and just thinking about it made him angry.

So, there were reasons one and two that Simon didn’t want to sleep tonight. The third is that he’s afraid. (Baz would probably taunt him, if he knew. “ _Who knew the Chosen One was so afraid of falling asleep at night?_ ”)

He’s afraid to sleep because he knows that it won’t be long before the nightmares start. It never is, even on the best of days. Most of them are the same things over again. The Chimera. The Humdrum. Waking up and someone telling Simon that he made all of this up in his head like that Harry Potter theory.

Simon doesn’t want to see any of those again. He doesn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night alone again. He doesn’t want to give Baz anything else to tease him about when they bicker.

So, instead of sleeping, Simon stays awake and tosses and turns and thinks. It’s not like any of this tossing and turning will bother Baz; he’s not even in their room even though curfew was two hours ago. Simon considers getting up to track him down, but then he would have to get dressed again and that’s too much effort.

When Baz arrives back in the room, tired and slightly drunk (Dev and Niall’s fault), he’s surprised to find that Simon is still awake. Usually by now, he’s passed out and sleeping soundly. (Or, not always soundly. Sometimes Baz comes back when he’s in the middle of a nightmare, and it’s so hard to play the part of the Chosen One’s enemy. He wants to wake him up and whisper that he’s alright, and everything is fine.)

“Why are you still up?” Baz asks. He chalks it up to the alcohol instead of worry. Simon startles at the sound of his voice, and then gives him a puzzled look.

“Because I don’t feel like sleeping,” He answers. It doesn’t quite sound like the truth, though. Baz doesn’t push the issue – even though he kind of wants to – and grabs a pair of pajamas to change into in the bathroom. Simon is still awake when he comes back out, but this time with a faraway look in his eyes that Baz couldn’t see from across the room.

Baz gets in bed without saying anything else, and briefly wonders if it’s obvious that he wants to. He’s not always the best at schooling his emotions when he’s drunk. (Isn’t that kind of the point of getting drunk, though? To let go of everything?)

Then, it’s just the two of them laying in the dark and not speaking. It’s rather awkward. If they were normal roommates or had any sort of relationship that was less than hostile, maybe they could talk on nights like this. Wouldn’t that be nice?

(If the Mage and the Old Families hadn’t always been at each other’s throats, maybe they’d have had the chance to be normal. To be friends.)

_That would have been nice,_ Baz thinks. I would have liked that much more than fighting. It would have sucked much less.

As if Simon could sense what he was thinking, he speaks up.

“Do you think we could have been friends?” He asks. Baz wants to do what he would normally do: say something mean, push him away, or just ignore him. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s because it’s the last night of term, or maybe it’s because it’s the middle of the night and that somehow makes it different, he doesn’t. He answers him.

“Probably. The Crucible cast us together for a reason didn’t it?”

“What if it was wrong?”

Can the Crucible even be wrong? It never has been before, at least to Baz’s knowledge. If it messed up all the time, they wouldn’t use it.

“Then I’m sorry you got stuck with me,” Baz says sincerely. Simon sits up to glance over at his roommate, wondering briefly if he’s gone crazy or is simply toying with him. Even if the Crucible was wrong, Baz is still sorry that Simon got stuck with him. Watford must be some sort of magical dream for Simon: being whisked away by the Mage every Autumn to spend the year with his friends and girlfriend, being surrounded by magic at every turn, and Baz does nothing but be cruel to him.

Not for the first time, Baz considers all the mean things he’s done to Simon over the years. He’s never outright done anything since fifth year, but he suddenly feels terrible. I’ve taken what’s probably the best part of Simon’s life and twisted it into something terrible.

“It’s not like I’ve been a dream, either,” Simon replies, pulling Baz out of his thoughts. “I just wish it were different, you know?”

“Yeah.” Baz wishes that he had the courage to say something better than that. Something more meaningful than that. It wouldn’t matter, though, because Simon is with Agatha and – _I should apologize for that while we’re not fighting. That way it won’t seem like I’m being an ass._

“I’m sorry,” Is all that comes out of Baz’s mouth. It’s like his tongue forgot what it was supposed to say next. After a moment, he gets the words out. “About what you saw in the Wood. Agatha and I – it’s not what you think.”

“So then what was it?” Simon’s voice has lost the softness it had held only moments earlier, and Baz wishes that he hadn’t said anything at all.

“She saw me . . . doing something. I was trying to make sure she didn’t go around telling everyone.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“Because I’m not even interested in her, Snow. She’s all yours, trust me.”

“Then why do you spend so much time flirting with her?” Simon asks, and yes, Baz definitely wishes he’d just left it alone now.

“I was just doing it to bother you. Don’t bother telling me how shitty that sounds. I already know. I promise I won’t mess with her next year.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

_Oh well,_ Baz thinks, _I’ve already been this honest with him._

“I’m just tired of fighting with you. We’ve already got enough problems as it is, we don’t need to add each other to the list.”

Simon doesn’t respond, but Baz doesn’t want this to be over yet. Things will be different in the morning, of course, but he’s going to spend as much time in this moment as he can.

“So what are your plans for the Summer holidays?” He asks, changing the subject to something a bit lighter. (Or at least, he thought it would be lighter until he remembers that Simon goes back to care for the summer, and this is in fact an uncomfortable question.) “You don’t have to answer that,” He adds on.

“It’s okay. I – I don’t really have any plans. I’m just going to whatever care home the Mage has found for me this time. And for the record, I’m tired of fighting with you, too. This is much better. Talking, I mean—”

“I get what you mean, Snow,” Baz does his best to make sure that it doesn’t come out harsh. He thinks he succeeds.

Simon is thoroughly confused by this whole situation. First of all, Baz apologized, (twice!), second of all, Simon was feeling quite a few things that he would never associate with Baz. Honest. Soft. Nervous. (But not the kind of nervous you get before a presentation. It’s he kind of nervous you get around someone when you . . . when you want to be _more_ than friends with them.)

This is certainly something new for Simon, who can barely sort through his feelings at the best of times. He doesn’t quite know what to do. Is it insane to kiss someone that you only called a truce with only five minutes earlier?

Probably. But when had anything about Simon ever been normal?

(Never. The answer is never. He has a storybook name, after all, how could one expect him to be normal?)

With a half-baked (or quarter-baked, at best) plan, Simon pushes the covers away and stands up. He doesn’t quite know what he’s doing.

Or he does know what he’s doing. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Baz doesn’t, though, and he’s looking at Simon with a very confused look. Simon wouldn’t be able to see it if it weren’t for the fact that moonlight was streaming through the window.

_(He looks perfect. He always looks perfect – but right now it’s different. His hair is loose, and he doesn’t look like he’s trying to hide everything. He looks younger. Softer.)_

Simon crosses the gap between them in just a few steps, hesitating for a moment before sitting on the edge of Baz’s bed. Baz watches him with wide eyes.

“What are you doing?” He asks, whispering.

“I don’t know,” Simon answered honestly. He leans in closer, until he can feel Baz’s soft breaths on his face. “Is that okay?”

Baz nods, and leans up to meet him. (Baz’s lips are exactly as soft as Simon thought they would be. Which is weird, because he doesn’t remember thinking about this before.)

The kiss is soft, and sweet, and warm – everything that Baz imagined kissing Simon would be like. Baz thinks he must have died and gone to heaven, because he can’t figure out why this would be happening to him right now. He doesn’t question it, though, and kisses him back.

He tangles his fingers in Simon’s perfectly messy curls in the way that he’s always dreamed of doing and tugs him closer. In the back of his mind he’s worried about his fangs popping, but he isn’t worried enough to stop. If they do, then it will just confirm Simon’s suspicions. At least he’ll have this moment before Simon runs off to tell the Mage.

After a moment, Simon pulls away, and Baz mourns the loss. He already feels colder in Simon’s absence. Simon smiles down at him – not a small smile, but something big and _happy_ – and Baz can’t believe that it’s directed at him.

_Aleister Crowley, I'm living a charmed life._

Simon kisses him again, and then whispers, “Isn’t this better than fighting?”

_Yes, Simon Snow, this is much better than fighting._

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one! I know it's not super original, but I think it's easier to stick to tropes while I'm still learning the ins and outs of the fandom <3 hopefully I'll catch you next time!


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